Artie the Vampire Stayer
by keiminnn
Summary: When Arthur Kirkland, an occultist and practicing wizard, conjures a vampire, he finds his beliefs challenged. But this vampire plans to surprise his summoner in more ways than one. USUK, AU
1. Chapter One: The Lonely Wizard

Chapter One

**The Lonely Wizard**

When he was born, Arthur Kirkland was gifted with a power that most children these days seldom imagined. He was no good with sports like his older brothers, nor was he talented in fashion and style or art as his classmates. But the more he toggled with his power, the less important his inabilities seemed. Yes, this gift was special to him, and him only.

Arthur was born a clairvoyant.

An extraordinary one at that.

As a child, he noticed things other children didn't. Little people with wings would flutter in and out of his family's garden. On hunting trips with his brothers, he'd see a wandering spirit or two, sometimes dressed in 19th century attire. Even within school, small, hairy creatures introduced themselves to him as imps, then sprinted away to switch and hide the other children's toys.

However, as he got older and more aware of what his supposed gift was, he would let himself believe it was more of a curse.

On the playgrounds, he would get teased for still having imaginary friends. Entering teenagehood, Arthur chose to keep silent about the gremlins and other wary creatures he'd see, but he never grew out of talking loudly with excitement to his fairy friends. This earned him very curious or nosy crowds to come, followed by annoyed looks.

By the time he began his second year of high school, what started out as purely curiosity and child's wonderment turned into an obsession with the occult and dark arts.

He was not limited to just seeing ghosts like most clairvoyants afterall. His world was filled with more than that! Oddly colored winged-rabbits would greet him cheerfully— at times, little men in green with pockets filled to the brim with gold. He would catch glimpses and even got the chance to let his hand graze upon the mane of a unicorn!

So it wouldn't come off as a surprise that because Arthur Kirkland, clairvoyant extraordinaire, could see and hear and touch these mystical creatures, that he himself would be able to produce and weave magic as well, would it?

Almost as immediately as he thought that, he began reading feverishly through mounds and mounds of books on runes, spells, charms, and whatever he could find that would make him a great wizard. He secluded himself in papers and yellowing books in his room.

Magical talent naturally came to him. Quickly, he learned how to produce light in his hands out of nothing but a low chant under his breath. In a matter of weeks, he could bring forth his _Complete History of Mermaids and Mermen _book from across the room into his hand with a whisper of tangled words.

But with all this success and new found skill, he had no one to share it with. His brothers would only see this as some sort of cry for attention or think he'd finally gone completely mental. Surely, his classmates would think the same and jeer at him endlessly. He couldn't even consider telling his only friends, Toris and Kiku. They were nice boys who were open-minded to how their friend would be when involved with the supernatural. Nonetheless, Arthur knew that telling them about all the dark stuff he was getting into would only draw the line between himself and normal human beings forever.

Despite knowing that his interest in sorcery best be kept a secret, that only made him feel lonelier than ever. Seeing pixies and gnomes just weren't enough anymore- he wanted something more, something darker. His lonely, cynical feelings and crave for knowledge in deeper magic produced a desire for something that would satisfy those emotions. The most dangerous supernatural being he'd encountered was just a loony ghost— or "awesome poltergeist", as he self-proclaimed— that occasionally played over-the-top pranks on the student body like (unintentionally) causing one of the campus buildings ablaze and locking Arthur's classmate, Roderich, in the school grounds on the weekend. That was nothing close to what he wanted.

Fervently, Arthur looked through all of his books, trying to locate the most dastardly fascinating creature he could find. He wanted something that would quench his thirst for the occult. Then, he would summon it. It had been six months since he first started practicing magic after all. He only ever showed signs of improvement— a reassurance that nothing could go wrong.

Caught in his excitement, he recklessly chose the most captivating being in his eyes that he would call for. The vampire.

It had the deceiving appearance of a human, yet as a demon, it maintained several horrific attributes according to his books: "_...relies on the blood of the living to survive..._", "_...abnormally-colored complexion... purple... a sickly yellow..._", "_a creature of the night— under the sun it will meet death,_", "_Born with animal-like fangs for its insatiable thirst for human blood..._", "_...uses its piercing, alluring eyes on humans... turns a bright gold when hungry._" It was perfect. None of the books describes a vampire's personality though. Most of them only told warning signs of a vampire and the different methods of killing them. But from what Arthur had read, he supposed a vampire wouldn't be as dimwitted as a troll or gremlin, neither was it limited to just fun-loving and giggling like his fairy friends. So he assumed they'd be brooding, mysterious creatures.

But assumptions and vague books weren't enough— he was going to summon this being.

With already an apparently normal piece of chalk in his right hand, he knelt down on both of his knees and drew several large circles, one inside the other. Between them, he copied the runes that were pictured in an open book he was holding in his other hand.

When the magic circle was completed, Arthur stood up straight outside of it, smirking pleasantly, and energetically mouthed what the summoning chant in a different book told him to do to complete the procedure.

At the last words in his reading, he shouted— believing his magicking was a success.

The circles glowed a great, bright purple before simmering down to a low light, then to the simple chalk drawings they were in the beginning.

He waited a few seconds.

Thirty seconds.

Two minutes.

Ten minutes.

His smirk from earlier had disappeared entirely, it was replaced with a deep frown and his eyebrows furrowed in anger and frustration. It had been a long while since he had been so excited and he'd never failed a spell before.

He exhaustively drudged his feet to his bed, dropping his book carelessly on his floor along the way. With his eyes already closed, Arthur let his back hit the bed. He opened his eyes once more though to take out his pocket watch to check the time. It read ten past three, meaning he'd been working on throughout the early morning.

Disappointed and tired, he blew out the candle at his bedside and let himself fall asleep all the while wondering what went wrong.

o o o

A loud, crash and yelp awoke Arthur a few hours later.

"Ouch..." a voice that was not his muttered.

He sat up urgently. That sounded nothing like any of his brothers' voices, who never went into Arthur's room in the first place. The little window near the ceiling was the only other source of light in his room besides his already light-empty candle, and it was still much too dark outside for there to be any sunlight to even let in.

Promptly recalling the first magical spell he learned, he did a quick chant and immediately what looked like a ball of pale flames perched itself just above his left palm.

He swished his hand left then right, trying to find the intruder. Slowly, he swung his legs off his bed and walked forward to further search his room, relying on his hearing as well, listening intently for a footstep or another stumble.

"Wow! How did you do that!"

Arthur shrieked and whipped his body to the left, where a young man with unusually bright sapphire eyes stood before him. The man's hands were fisted in front of him in what appeared to be out of excitement and he wore a wide grin on his almost childlike face.

"Well!" he repeated stepping forward.

Still confused, Arthur took a step back and felt his foot hit one of his many stacks of books. He eased his empty right hand onto the top of it and threw a very large book in front of him. "How the bloody hell did you get into my house— my room!" he demanded.

The man kept his hands in front of him, but this time to try and block the objects he was getting pelted with. "W- Wait! What are you doing! Stop it!" he responded while getting hit with another book. "Is this how you treat your guest!"

"My guest?" Arthur let the book he was about to throw ease at his side. "You must be some sort of burglar or lunatic!" Forgetting his earlier puzzlement, he continued to fling his belongings.

"No, I'm not! I swear! Geez... You're the one that called me, right?." He dropped his defensive posture and replaced it with crossed arms and a pout like a child's. "You know, I thought summoners were supposed to be smart."

Arthur was taken aback for a moment, then finally put the pieces in place. "You..." he said weakly. "You're a..." He was more than hesitant to repeat the last word. "...Vampire?"

Said vampire let his grin back on his face again and flashed one of his thumbs proudly at himself. "Yup! Alfred. F. Jones, full-fledged vampire, at your service!"

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

Despite always having ideas and prompts pop into my head endlessly, this is only the second time I've written fanfiction. The first time being years ago before I even entered high school. So after a considerably long hiatus, I'm back with more than a few ideas of my own to share!


	2. Chapter Two: An Unlikely Hero

Chapter Two

**An Unlikely Hero**

Arthur found the only thing he could do was stupidly gape at the supposed vampire in front of him.

Alfred, oblivious as he was, noticed this response as a negative one and immediately looked offended. "Hey, what's with the face?" he asked angrily. "Is this how all humans act? Or are you just dumb?"

Snapping out of his astonishment, Arthur glared just as heatedly back at Alfred. "I'm not stupid." he simply stated. Calmly, Arthur walked towards the little iron table at his bed's side where his candle was, lit it with the ball of light (he had somehow managed to maintain it throughout all the commotion), and faced Alfred once again. "However..." he drawled, lifting the candle by it's handle and making his way back to his guest. "You can't possibly be a vampire. Much less a pure-blood." Arthur's eyes were scanning every part of Alfred's body, practically boring right through him.

"I thought we settled this already." Alfred heaved. "You summoned me and here I—"

Arthur wasn't listening. He placed himself right in front of Alfred, still going on with his explanantion, and set his candle down on a stack of books next to them that was as tall as his shoulders, absently thinking for a moment how impressive they were for surviving the earlier scuffle.

"—so being the hero I was, I came for y— graaah!" Arthur had stuck his fingers in Alfred's mouth and began stretching it wide open at the corners of his lips.

He tip-toed steadily to get a better look, and let his hands prod at Alfred's teeth. "...You have fangs..." Arthur said aloud, almost to himself. "...but they're actually rather small..." His left hand was still holding Alfred's mouth open by the edges while his right fingers grazed along his upper teeth. Slowly, Arthur's hands gently trailed from Alfred's fangs to under his front teeth, examining everything thoroughly by light touches.

That was a mistake, however, since Alfred took that as an opportunity to lock two of Arthur's fingers between his teeth with a considerably painful grip.

"Fucking hell!" Arthur cursed, tugging his fingers uselessly. Even though it was Alfred's most middle teeth that had barred him, he wouldn't consider this situation any better than getting bitten by Alfred's fangs.

He opened his mouth to chant an offensive spell, but Alfred spit his fingers back out, almost disgustedly.

Now grimacing, Alfred used the back of his palms to wipe little trails of drool that made its way out of his mouth from Arthur's exploration. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you _want _me to suck your blood." Looking none to pleased about that prospect, Alfred crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Arthur, who was busy wrapping his now-free fingers in his cloak to dry it and stop any bleeding.

"I most certainly do not!" Arthur quickly shot back. He went quiet though to think for a moment. "However, you're quite free to bite the other humans in the area." He smiled deviously, thinking of his neighbor, Francis, who wouldn't be expecting to be mauled and attacked by a vampire anytime, especially at this instant.

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, but out of what looked like confusion and slight surprise. "Nah, that's all right. I had a bite before I got here." Instead of looking at Arthur though, his eyes were surveying the room he was in.

It had gotten considerably brighter. The sky outside was no longer a damp blue, soft streams of early morning light were oozing their way into the dark room. It had gotten easier to see where they had gotten into that scuffle when Alfred first arrived, and the many old books and journals Arthur had thrown were open, scattered all over his room.

He found it much easier to define Alfred's appearance too.

Even in light, Alfred's eyes seemed to glow a dazzling sapphire. Although Arthur briskly dismissed that just as another part of his feature as a vampire. _That's one thing the books got right_, he thought irritably. Still examining his face, Arthur trailed his eyes at Alfred's hair and how it could be considered a golden blond— albeit it was quite messy and he had a peculiar bit of it standing up-right at the right side of his hairline where his hair parted. His body, Arthur quickly recognized, was clothing as such from the 1700s (he had met at least two spirits from that time period that all too gladly explained to him the politics and fashionable garments of the time they were still alive). It was a simple outfit— a plain white long-sleeved shirt, with a trail of buttons coming down the middle and sleeves rolled below his elbows. He wore tan breeches and large boots that reached just right under his knees. He was also dirtied with dust and light spots of dirt in some places. Arthur wasn't sure if it was his own doing or if Alfred had came here that way.

When he traced his eyes back to Alfred's face, it was then he noticed that Alfred had just been analyzing him intently as well. He was looking at Arthur very curiously, but said nothing. Suddenly feeling very embarrassed and insecure, Arthur's cheeks pinked and his eyes directed their way to an old book shelf to the left, facing his head away from Alfred's prying eyes. "Er..." he voiced loud enough to hear. It didn't feel like he was being eyed as food by some gruesome monster. Alfred resembled a normal human— in more ways than one— so much that Arthur's incredibly awful social skills began kicking in and he felt like he should be talking to him about something like the weather or what he did over summer break instead to ease the uncomfortable silence .

"...Yes?" Alfred finally responded. He tilted his head a bit to show that he was listening even though he was still dragging his eyes all over Arthur.

Not wanting to maintain that awful silence, Arthur, head still turned away, looked at Alfred and finally said what has been on his mind the whole time. "You're not what I expected." Still feeling uneasy, his right hand clasped his left elbow.

Alfred shrugged and put his hands in the pockets of his breeches. "Well, to be fair— you're not exactly what I imagined you'd be either," he said straightforwardly. It wasn't filled with any sourness or disappointment, nor relief.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked hostilely, no longer feeling insecure. "For your infor—"

"Do you think we can talk somewhere else?" Alfred interrupted. He swung his hands in front of his face. "It's really dusty in here."

Arthur really did want to argue that he didn't care and that it was his fault anyway, but he had only slept for at the least, two hours, and had been working vigorously hard earlier. Thus, he was already too exhausted to unnecessarily start another pointless squabble. "Fine. But we have to be careful. My brothers are upstairs and—"

Again he was interrupted by Alfred who shouted "Great!" and now had Arthur's hand in his. Alfred was leading them over the piles of books and strange wooden objects riddled all over the floor towards the wooden staircase that soon brought them into the kitchen.

"Wow..." Alfred gaped as he examined the various appliances and other kitchenware. Before he could ask what the toaster was, Arthur remembered that his brothers were shortly going to be awake, and with Alfred's hand still holding his, he clasped it back and led them outside into the backyard. He had grown some considerably large shrubs and ducked behind them, dragging Alfred with him.

"Ow! It pricked me! What is this?" Alfred said, rubbing his scratched arm.

Arthur gave Alfred an annoyed look, but answered. "They're barberries. I sometimes use them in my potions. And aren't you exaggerating? It's not like this can kill you."

Alfred pouted. "Well... yeah! But that doesn't stop it from hurting!"

Arthur thought quietly for a moment at that. He scooted away from the barberry bush to the softer shrub that was next to it and leaned against it. "You should be impervious to physically feeling anything besides objects like silver or holy objects though..."

"That's not true! I can feel tons of things— I mean, like, everything!" Alfred said defensively.

He was reminded of what Alfred had said earlier. "What did you mean... when you said I wasn't what you imagined me to be."

Alfred went quiet, then scooted towards Arthur until their shoulders were almost touching, and pressed his back against the soft shrub too. _Only to get away from the thorny bushes_, Arthur thought, unnecessarily justifying Alfred's sudden closeness. "Just... what you meant too when you said the same thing about me I guess." He even repeated the same shrug just as he had previously done the first time. But when Alfred listened to himself speak, he realized that that answer wasn't good enough and tried reconfirming to Arthur what he meant. "Like... Where I come from, humans are described as... Well, not like you!" He stretched out the last word, pointing his finger straight at Arthur.

Arthur's heart sank. The outcome of summoning a vampire was having the exact opposite effect he was hoping for. He was expecting to find a creature he could share his cynical feelings with and divulge him further into the occult. And here Alfred was throwing at him the same words he was trying to run away from everyday by his peers, his neighbors, and his family.

Noticing that he was not getting yelled at, Alfred once again realized that that probably wasn't exactly the best answer either. "Er— no! I mean— It's a good thing! A very good thing!" Apparently, he had also noticed Arthur's now watering eyes.

Keeping his eyes and head down, Arthur was still quiet, not bothering to listen to what Alfred was saying.

Urgently now, Alfred grabbed Arthur's wrists and lifted them up towards himself so Arthur would have no choice but to look at him now. Arthur's head had shot up at this in a panic.

Now that Arthur was looking at him with all of his attention and wide eyes, Alfred began once more. "Look, ugh, sorry... I'm no good with words, see..." He was being very sincere, Arthur noticed— painfully so since he wasn't used to being treated in such a heartfelt way, and he allowed Alfred to continue. "...But, yeah... Where I come from... We don't have humans. Only stories from the elders in the village, and they don't say nice things about you guys." He let out a light chuckle, and Arthur was slowly understanding what Alfred was trying to say. "Like how they said humans are weak— compared to our strength, that is— but you were throwing those books at me awfully hard..." Another chuckle. "Ah, and are naturally cruel and despicable! But you invited me here and showed me a bunch of interesting things! Like that strange light earlier! You still haven't shown me how you did that, by the way..." Arthur was still silent, not knowing exactly what to say. "They also mentioned how horribly ugly and haggish you all look... but... meeting you..." His eyes scanned Arthur once more. "That's not true either." Alfred had that thoughtful look he had when he was examining Arthur in his room, only this time his cheeks were dusted with a light pink.

Arthur couldn't help it when his cheeks did the same— and with much more color. He kept his eyes on Alfred, even as the other looked away and let their hands drop, and decided that maybe he liked this vampire better than the ones in his books.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

I'm so glad that people are actually reading and enjoying the story so far! ;u; Ah, and even though I spend about half a day on each chapter it looks as if I've only done a few hours work. Three pages on Google Docs doesn't seem like much on here, does it? But the story is progressing faster than I intended and I'll try making the chapters longer!

I had a sick day today and I've got a three-day weekend ahead of me so there should be a nice flow of updates!

Ah, and I knew I should have explained this in the first chapter, but here goes. Another definition for "stayer" is a person who has great endurance or perseverance. And having to deal with Alfred, who doesn't happen to be a typical vampire and the opposite of Arthur, Arthur needs as much endurance and tolerance as he can muster! I hope that clears things up a bit!


	3. Chapter Three: TMOAV Part One

Chapter Three

**The Misconceptions of a Vampire: Part One**

"You never told me your name," Alfred mused.

Arthur looked at him, realization dawning him as well. "It's Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred smiled at Arthur, probably in hopes he'd do the same, but instead Arthur felt the heat in his cheeks and ears rise and he turned the other way.

They had remained in Arthur's garden for most of the morning between the large barberry bushes and several hedges with little lavender and yellow flowers, Arthur claiming "It's not safe to leave until we can hear my brothers' cars driving away," to which Alfred asked what cars were, and thus allow Arthur to waste his morning explaining to what felt like a caveman or overgrown child the invention of automobiles and development of transportation.

"That's amazing!" Alfred had barked excitedly.

"Be quiet! Someone will hear you!" Arthur snarled in a low whisper.

"Oops. Sorry." He ducked his head so he was at eye level with Arthur again. "That's amaziiing!" he repeated, but in the hushed voice Arthur used.

Arthur closed his eyes and smirked. "Yes, well, there's still so much more to it than that. We have these flying machines too called airplanes." He pointed towards the sky, which was currently being slightly masked by a great tree in the garden— it's wide branches and leaves not only hovering broadly over them, but providing a pleasant shade where they sat cross-legged on the grass next to each other.

Alfred hung his mouth open, the ends of it curving into a big grin. He tilted his head back and gazed at the sky as if waiting for one of these flying machines to zoom by any moment and abduct him.

The weather was exceptionally good today Arthur thought while looking up as well. The sun was shining brightly overhead and the birds were chirping pleasantly. Many of the neighborhood children were out and about as well, savoring the sweet smell of a much-awaited Saturday.

But despite seeing what looked like a wonderful day to be outside, Arthur couldn't suppress a yawn and the consideration of going back inside and falling asleep in his warm room in the basement.

Suddenly, one by one, loud roaring engines reached their ears and Arthur peeked over the hedges to see that his brothers were now on their way to leave for whatever dastardly immoral thing they do on a daily basis. The sounds were gone almost as quickly as they came however as his brothers left with successfully not hitting any children on bikes this time. Arthur now considered the house a safe place to enter once again.

"Okay, we can go back inside now." Arthur sighed relieved. He was about to leave when Alfred tugged his arm.

"But I like it out here!" Alfred assured. "Fresh air and sunshine! Plus, its all stuffy and depressing in your room."

Arthur grimaced. "It's not so much for you as it is for me. Thanks to you, I didn't get a good sleep and..." He trailed off realizing what he had just said. "You...! You're a vampire! What the hell do you think you're doing out here in broad daylight!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Alfred asked, looking honestly confused by Arthur's sudden outburst.

"The sun is out! You'll perish...! Into ashes! " He looked at Alfred with a grave expression and reached for his elbows to lead him inside.

"_a creature of the night— under the sun it will meet death..._"

Upon touching Alfred's skin, however, he didn't feel him wither away or burning from the heat. "...You're... not perishing." Instead, he felt an overall warmness. Akin to what he did previously to Alfred's teeth, he let his hands and eyes wander Alfred's arms. Alfred didn't seem to mind and let him carry on with his inspection, saying no objections nor biting his fingers. Once Arthur grasped what he was doing though, he promptly stopped his fondling, and was flustering, thinking of something else to do. Luckily, Alfred spoke up for him.

"Well, no. I'm not. And neither are you, so..." He was acting like Arthur had said something unintelligible or awkward, and shut his mouth from saying anything more.

Composing himself, he coughed and clearly stated "Right. Sorry... I suppose that's just a big misconception about vampires." He grimaced, internally questioning himself what else in his books were just made-up stories or hoaxes. "Anyway, you must be tired too, right? It's probably not as good as a coffin, but I'll lend you my sleeping bag." He was making his way back to the house when Alfred caught up to him and grabbed his arm again.

"You can't do that!" Alfred whined much how a spoiled child would. "You brought me here and told me about all these wonderful things, and then you want me to just lie down and go to sleep!" He began jerking Arthur back towards their spot under the tree. "Come ooon, Artie!"

"It's Arthur," he corrected, frowning. "I wasn't prepared for this! Nor are you in a right state to be out in the open!" Arthur gestured his hands up and down to indicate Alfred's incredibly out-of-date attire, which was also spotted with dirt.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Alfred said defensively. His fingers were now pinching his shirt to see if there was anything faulty with what he was wearing.

"Oh nothing. It just happens to be a few hundred years out of style." Not willing to waste any more of his time, Arthur was now halfway towards the back door of the house. "Get inside until I can figure out what we'll do from now on." He stepped into the kitchen, and held the door open for Alfred who had hunched his back and let his arms dangle lifelessly in front of him.

Nevertheless, Alfred found the toaster once more and eagerly began toggling with it as if it was a toy. His fingers were leaving large prints over the surface, but instead of scolding him, Arthur took advantage of the situation and shut the door. He motioned two of his fingers to form a pentagon. There, temporarily imprinted on his kitchen door was a large blue star. Repeating this action in the directions of every door in the house except his own, Arthur had sealed all of the exits and entrances.

None the wiser of what Arthur had just done, Alfred smiled over the now dismembered toaster. "You have got to show me how you do that stuff!"

"Another time. I need some sleep— as do you— but I'll be awake by afternoon." Before going to his room, he looked at Alfred one more time and placed another hex on the stove and oven, successfully making the house Alfred-proof. "Good night then." He waved goodbye and descended into the basement.

But as he made his final step into his room, Alfred dashed right inside, boots clunking loudly over the creaking staircase, and clung to Arthur's cloak. "You're the worst host ever! Leaving me alone up there with those creepy signs you put!"

"They're to keep you out of trouble!" Arthur wasn't going to be prevented from his bed any longer. When Alfred wouldn't let go of his cloak, he untied the little knot that secured it around his neck, and bound for his bed where he threw the covers over himself in a poor attempt to keep Alfred from bothering him any further.

Alfred just as quickly found his way onto Arthur's bed though. "I'm not going to stay up there, if those things are— what if a ghost comes out of it!" He was nudging Arthur now, who had no intention of budging. "F- Fine! I'll just go to sleep then, too! But when we wake up, you better let me out of the house and show me around! I won't accept any objections!" Alfred straightened his legs on Arthur's bed and dropped his head on one of the pillows. "If you would scoot over a bit..."

Under the covers, it seemed Arthur had choked on air. Sputtering, he sat up to look accusingly at Alfred. "Absolutely not!" His face was red, most likely a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Sleep on the floor!"

"But your bed is huge! Can't I, please—"

"You've got filth all over your clothes!"

"I'll take them off, see!" Alfred had sat up too now. His hands sprinted for the buttons of his shirt, where he was about to release them.

"K- Keep them on, you idiot!" He looked down hurriedly to avoid Alfred's unintentional lewdness. Almost shouting the spell, he summoned his sleeping bag he used when he would go on hunting trips with his family. It had whizzed from a dark corner of the room and perched itself in Arthur's arms. "You can use this."

At first Alfred had looked impressed at yet another example of Arthur's skills as a wizard. But that had fallen at Arthur's statement. "I can't!"

"What are you talking about? I've just given you permission—" He raised one of his big eyebrows out of irritation and confusion.

"It's not that." Alfred began twiddling his fingers in circles. "Your floor looks like it might have ghost mice."

A long silence filled the air with Alfred's last words. He was still making tiny circles and his eyes were darting side to side to avoid Arthur's gaze. Thoroughly infuriated, Arthur shattered the quiet icily. "Alfred, if you don't stop with this shit right now, I swear I will not hesitate to drive a stake down your esophagus straight into your heart."

Finally understanding that his insistence wasn't working and knowing that Arthur fully-well happened to put just as much bite into his barks, he puttered with the zipper a bit, then swiftly slipped himself inside. He made no complaints and settled himself right next to Arthur's bed, his back touching the side of it.

Silence wafted between them once more.

Feeling more than a little guilty now seeing Alfred's slightly trembling figure from where he was still sitting, Arthur sighed and made his way to the very edge of his bed next to Alfred and lied on his stomach. He reached for Alfred's head and patted it lightly, assuring him "There are no ghost mice. And... I promise I'll show you all the things you want to see later... But for now, I just need some rest." He closed his eyes while his hand was still on Alfred, trying his best to comfort him— something he's never done to anyone before. Much less had done to him. When Alfred stopped stirring, he reckoned he was doing everything right so far. "If you're afraid of staying upstairs and too awake from what you've already seen, you can look through these." In a tired whisper, he chanted the same summoning spell prior, but this time some of the books that were discarded on the floor and a few from the bookshelves piled themselves in a sloppy stack next to Alfred.

He was plenty exasperated already and did not wait for Alfred to respond. Arthur was immediately drifting off to sleep, already beginning to dream. But for an instant he thought he felt someone touching his hand and whisper his name.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

Another chapter completed! Honestly, I just want to ditch all this friendship to romance development, and make them get together already. ;;; And I know there's nothing seemingly vital in this chapter, but right now I'm just trying to get them get used to each other until I can quicken the pace.

Also, thank you for the wonderful reviews and alerts! \o/


	4. Chapter Four: TMOAV Part Two

Chapter Four

**The Misconceptions of a Vampire: Part Two**

Arthur found himself rudely awakened by his unmannerly guest for the second time that day.

"Artiiie! Artiiie! Wake uuup!" Alfred was harshly rocking Arthur's body back and forth, albeit careful not to let him topple out of the bed.

Arthur stirred a bit before slowly sitting up, eyes still lidded and his hair more ruffled than usual.

"Great! You're awake now! I've been looking through all those books you loaned me and if we want to see the whole world, we gotta get going now!" Alfred positioned his hands at Arthur's sides and easily lifted him up onto his feet.

Grunting at how rough and loud Alfred was being, Arthur rubbed at his eyes hastily and opened his mouth to berate him, but Alfred interrupted him as usual.

"The first thing I wanna see is..." He was rummaging through a fallen stack of books, tossing a couple aside until he found what he was looking for. "This!"

Alfred pushed the book into Arthur's face and used one of his fingers to point at a very detailed drawing of an airplane. Arthur recognized it immediately as the one he drew while he was at the airport for one of his yearly trips to the United Kingdom. When Arthur first realized he was the only one to see spirits and other supernatural beings, he would record everything about them in journals he carried everywhere as a reference to others to what he was seeing. Eventually, it turned into a habit where he would absentmindedly begin sketching where ever he was and whatever he saw. He supposed he had several dozens of journals now.

Alfred disturbed his thoughts once again. "Now pack whatever you need and let's get going!"

Finally given the chance to speak, Arthur finally voiced "Alfred, we're not travelling the world! That's impossible!" Although, Arthur found that he was finding Alfred's intentions quite adorable and charming. He had put as little anger as he could in his voice, not wanting to completely put Alfred down.

In spite of Arthur's consideration, Alfred still made a dejected look as he stopped his bouncing and cheering. "Huuuh? What do you mean?"

A thought occurred to Arthur at that moment though. He was sure that once he was good enough a wizard, he would be more than capable of transporting not only his belongings to and fro where ever he pleased but also himself (and perhaps another). Maybe finally out of this town— to greater cities or even other countries. "Well, at least not now... Someday..." Arthur smiled surely at these words, but Alfred on the other hand was looking a bit impatient. "It probably won't be as close or clear as you'd like," Arthur almost whispered, embarrassed at how unnecessarily kind he was trying to be. "but I'm certain we'll see an airplane or two today... That is, if you don't mind staying within the town... with me." The last two words were almost inaudible, but he wasn't looking at Alfred to see if he had heard.

Whether Alfred had heard it or not though, he was already his buoyant self again. "That'd be excellent!" He had his mouth stretched into a big toothy grin, and Arthur couldn't help but give him a small smile back even though it probably looked awkward and as embarrassed as he felt.

"We better get going then." For a brief moment he pulled his pocket watch out to read that it was two o'clock. Realizing that neither of them had eaten yet, he figured he'd save Alfred the torture of being confided in the house any longer and decided that they'd just eat lunch while they were out.

"Haha, this is going to be the best day ever!" Alfred bellowed with his fists in the air.

Arthur's face had turned completely red. He'd never heard anyone claim anything like that while having to do something with him. Whenever his teachers assigned partners or groups for projects, he was often met with groans and heads banging against desks from the people he was forced to work with. It was just as well, he hated them also but kept to glares and hushed insults. Yet Alfred was jumping around like a child, more than happy to share an entire day with Arthur.

Glancing at Arthur's frozen figure, Alfred seemed to have caught how red his face was. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked in a worried voice. "Listen, if you're not feeling well, I don't mind waiting a little longer. There's still a ton of books I haven't read yet too and—"

"No, no, it's okay. I'm fine," Arthur assured him. He strolled to his drawers to look for something to wear. As he carelessly pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt featuring the _Sex Pistols_, it occurred to him that Alfred was still wearing his unusual attire. "Uh, you can't go out wearing that though. You'll draw too much attention."

"You mentioned something like that before." Alfred reminded himself. "But it's not like I have anything else to wear!"

Eyeing Alfred for an instant, he knew that his clothes would be too small for Alfred's larger body. Feeling a little hesitant, Arthur gradually resolved to "borrow" some clothes that would fit.

"Where are you going!" Alfred shouted after him alarmingly, as Arthur dashed up the staircase, out the door.

"Stay where you are!" Their shouting echoed loudly, seeping through every room in the house. Luckily, said house was still magically entwined so closer neighbors and passers-by wouldn't hear a new obnoxious voice they didn't recognize.

While running to his third eldest brother's room, he chanted a reverse spell to undo the hex he placed on the doors. Upon entering, he looked left and right for wherever clothes may be kept. They never went into each other's rooms— a sort of unspoken rule— so naturally, Arthur felt like he was committing some terrible crime and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, wasting no time admiring his brother's sloppy room. There, buried under a stack of filthy clothes was a low narrow set of drawers. Arthur leaped over the various scattered objects on the floor, shifted a set of dirty magazines out of the way, and quickly pulled out a red hoodie and pair of jeans out of the drawers.

Mission accomplished, Arthur bound back to his room where he found what looked like a fort made out of the dozens of books Arthur owned. He assumed it was a fort, because Alfred was secured inside, his cowlick hovering out of it. For an instant, Arthur was impressed at how quickly Alfred had conjured it, but remembered that Alfred wasn't exactly human either.

"Do I even have to ask?" Arthur drawled in an unamused voice.

"Arthur!" Alfred yelped as he sprung out of his little fortress, pushing himself forward uncomfortably close against Arthur. "You should have at least told me where you were going! Instead of making me wait here all by myself! Lucky for you, I'm a hero and came up with the idea to make a magic barrier myself!"

Sure enough, when Arthur took another glance at the stack of books, he realized that they were in fact his books on sorcery and magic. But rather than berate him on what a stupid and useless idea it was, Arthur began laughing lightly at how simply ridiculous Alfred was for believing that just by having a book about magic was in its essence magic too.

Not at all pleased with Arthur's lack of appreciation, Alfred armed himself with crossed arms and a big pout. "What's so funny? I thought it was a brilliant plan!"

Arthur wiped the tears at his eyes and placed one of his other hands loosely over his mouth. "You are, you fool," he said in between laughs. "Simply, having books on sorcery doesn't necessarily make it magical property." He picked up one of the books that made up the upper layer of the fort— _Magic for the Advanced_. "Like how having a kitchen doesn't make you a chef or owning a camera makes you a photographer." Setting the book back in place, Arthur looked back at Alfred who was no longer pouting, but seeming like he was thinking hard about what Arthur had told him.

Grasping that they were no ready for going out as they were when Arthur had gotten up, he tossed Alfred the clothes he retrieved and turned the other way to let Alfred change and do the same himself. Apparently Alfred had finished thinking about Arthur's earlier analogy and asked him what were cameras and photographers. Glad that Alfred had done so, it eased Arthur's uncomfortableness of changing clothes with some else doing the same right behind him. He told Alfred about photographs being tangible memories— it was the best he could come up with since he never dawdled about how technology worked. In spite of that, Alfred appeared very interested, and Arthur even offered to lend him his camera.

"C'mon, c'mon! Let's go now, Artie!" He was bouncing up and down, his knees bending and straightening at a fast pace as he waited for Arthur to grab his wallet and camera.

"Calm down, the town isn't going anywhere," Arthur affirmed. He was in a good mood right now and let Alfred get away with calling him 'Artie'.

Alfred wouldn't take that response though and shot back "Well, time is! So let's get going!"

As soon as Arthur tied his shoelaces, Alfred grabbed his elbow and dragged him almost painfully upstairs. They were close to getting out the back door until Arthur warned him.

"Hold on! There's one more thing we need before we go out!" He pried himself from Alfred's grip and instead headed towards the front door.

"Artiiieee...! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Alfred droned. He let his back hunch and arms dangle in front of him like how he did when Arthur wouldn't let him stay outside previously as well.

"Shut up. This is for your sake, so be a little grateful." Next to the front door was a thin bin containing five umbrellas. Arthur picked out the smallest and lightest one and held it out for Alfred to see. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Alfred perked once more and ran next to Arthur, ready to leave at last. Arthur had barely open the door when Alfred had bent down and slid himself under his arms to finally get out of the house.

"Freedooom!" he sang so loudly that Arthur could swear that the entire neighborhood heard.

He pushed his hand down Alfred's head sharply so they could see eye to eye. "Be quiet! Or else I'll change my mind about this whole thing and lock you with the ghost mice!" he said it in a loud whisper, but it was filled with the same amount of threat it would if Arthur had yelled instead.

Alfred nodded quickly under Arthur's hand and straightened himself in a dignified manner. He stopped shouting— generally not speaking at all.

Feeling that string of guilt tug at him as it seems to always do whenever he threatens Alfred like that, Arthur neatens up his stance as well and adds "I didn't say you couldn't talk. Just stop being so unnecessarily loud. It'll cause us a lot of trouble— especially in a place like this." His head was slightly bowed down, but his eyes were tracking the houses that surrounded his own.

"No more screaming. Got it." Alfred's smile returned, and he looked pleasantly at Arthur. "Shall we?"

Arthur could feel his face redden, but he kept a composed face and he started walking out of his yard onto the sidewalk laced along the other driveways, with his companion eagerly hopping beside him.

"These houses are enormous!" Alfred bellowed, albeit loud enough for only Arthur to hear. "They're all so pretty too! Just look at how colorful all their yards are. Course, they're not as gorgeous as the garden at your place," he added casually, giving Arthur that pleasant smile again.

It was almost as if he was purposely trying to keep Arthur's face red the whole day. "T- Thanks, I try my best to keep my garden 'gorgeous'—"

"You mean _you _take care of the garden!" Alfred stopped, too surprised.

Arthur stopped as well to glare at Alfred. "Is that a problem?"

"No," he simply replied. "But you sure are good at a lot of things, aren't you?" he mused, then continued walking down the street.

Still in place, Arthur didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't really want to tell Alfred that gardening was actually one of the only few things he was actually experienced in. Instead, he dragged the topic back to that of the houses and caught up to Alfred. "It's normal for houses to be that size. Is it different where you live?" He believed he knew the answer to that, but at the same time, Arthur wanted to hear it from Alfred.

"Plenty different. The size, the shape, the material..." He put his hands in a pair of pockets he just discovered at the front of his hoodie. "Mm, the clothes are very, very different too." They were passing a group of young ladies in bright short dresses as he said this. He seemed to be only looking at their clothes though, Arthur noticed. "I like it. It's so comfy. But those girls over there are showing an awful lot of their skin," he said almost uncomfortably, turning to face forward.

"That doesn't really matter anymore. People these days are more or less open-minded about their appearance. Or rather... they've become as shameless as they could ever be about it." He wasn't paying any mind to the women either.

Alfred let out a loud laugh and some children playing catch had their attention on him. He simply waved at them and shyly they did the same back. "Those kids don't happen to be vampires, do they?"

The question took Arthur by surprise and he almost couldn't answer immediately. "No. Of course not," he replied, actually considering the possibility that he had blood-sucking children as neighbors. "What makes you say that?"

Alfred put his hands at the back of his head. "I've heard more than once that human children are practically the devil's spawn."

Arthur gawked. "Who is telling you all this rubbish?" He knew children could be very annoying brats, but they were overall very innocent and not at all hell's offspring.

"They're just little rumors that travel through the village. So I'm guessing you don't train babies to impale us with wooden stakes?" Alfred added jokingly— or not— but he was most definitely in a fit of giggles again.

Arthur chuckled lightly at the prospect, joining Alfred. "No, we certainly do not." He decided to be a little evil. "We give them guns, you idiot."

Abruptly, Alfred froze in place, looking horror-stricken at Arthur, who was having a hard time not bursting into laughter. "What the hell is wrong with you peo—"

"Joking, Alfred! Joking!" he interrupted, deciding that he couldn't keep from laughing anymore.

"I believed you!" Alfred shouted, but he was laughing as well. Although it did look like he was trying to keep his enraged look from earlier, judging by his eyebrows that seemed unsure as to whether they tilt downwards or upwards. "Stop trying to fill my brain with more 'rubbish' about humans. And what you said about handing little babies guns was worse than the rumor." Still smiling.

Arthur's laughter was dying down, and then he remembered his camera. He handed it to Alfred, explaining the basic functions, and allowed him to hold onto it for the rest of the day. He was wildly taking pictures of everything— a fruit tree in someone's front yard, a man jogging, several passing cars. But most of all, he took an overbearing amount of pictures of Arthur. Arthur would catch Alfred taking pictures of him while he was animatedly explaining about the pixies living in one of the older house's yard, when he pointed forward to motion them to walk faster, stopped to tie his unlaced shoes— the little clicking noise the camera produced was going off nonstop and Arthur had to resist the urge not to pry the camera away from Alfred.

"That thing will die out if you keep it on so consistently long." It wasn't a lie, and Arthur didn't want to hear Alfred's complaints if he took the camera by force.

"This thing looks like it can do anything though!" He held the camera high above their heads.

"There are still a lot more impressive stuff to see, Alfred. Put that thing away until you see something that is actually interesting."

"What are you talking about! I got a bunch of interesting things on this already!" He pressed the triangular button just as Arthur had shown him and moved closer to him to show everything he'd been taking pictures of until now. "See?"

Several pictures flashed before him— a lot of them of the more unique houses or the things people usually put in their yards like flamingos and bird baths and gnomes. There were some shots of joggers and children playing along the road too. In between each picture though was a set of three or more pictures of Arthur. One of them stood out from all the rest though.

It was a picture of Arthur in the middle of his explanation about the pixies. He had a dazed and overall silly look on his face and was smiling goofily. Arthur had reached for the camera to snatch it from Alfred's evil clutches, but Alfred was much too quick and held the camera in the air again.

"I'm keeping this one. It's my favorite." Alfred winked.

"I look ridiculous!" he yelled. But he wasn't sure if he was more happy or embarrassed at Alfred's previous comment.

"No, you don't. And this is a great picture of you." Alfred smiled, seemingly trying to imitate same look Arthur had in his picture.

Arthur was seething, but instantly straightened himself and crossed his arms. "I'll just delete it when you give me my camera back." Arthur said triumphantly. "Or I can do this." He chanted loudly so Alfred could tell he was uttering a spell— the spell he would use to gather books and the sleeping bag. Just like that, Arthur's camera was— ...Still in Alfred's hands, very tightly.

"I don't know what you just did, but that's not fair!"

Arthur looked confusedly at Alfred, then his own hands. That was the first time he had ever failed casting a spell. He thought maybe he chanted it wrong, so he did it once more. But nothing happened again. He glanced at Alfred who was holding the camera against his chest now. It was possible his spells were chanted correctly— _No, not 'possible'— I surely said them right_, he corrected himself, but it was Alfred who was interfering with it. As a magical being, Alfred must naturally have at least some magical resistance as well. Figuring he wouldn't get his camera back until Alfred was willing to give it up, Arthur settled with the latter of his plan.

"I don't want anyone seeing me like that!" he let Alfred know.

"Well, you showed me, so!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Listen, I won't show it to anyone else, so you don't have to worry, okay?" Alfred was looking very serious as he said it for some reason.

Arthur didn't know why he was so insistent on keeping such a terrible picture of him. He closed his eyes, and began walking again, letting Alfred's last words seep into his mind. "If you really do show anyone that picture, I will rip your heart out of your chest, then beat it with a stake. I just might even feed your remains to the ghost mice."

Alfred was smiling until Arthur's last statement, but continued to look at the picture fondly after anyway .

o o o

Hearing Alfred's frequent comparisons about where he came from provoked Arthur's curiosity about vampires— what they truly were. Overall, Alfred spoke of the type of little village that would appear in stories or diaries he read from before the 1900s. It sounded like a secluded place since Alfred hadn't even seen cars or airplanes before. Not to mentions his clothing. His past comments being "Don't you ever get hungry? Where are your herds?" and "If all you guys ever grow are flowers, and no fruits and vegetables, you won't get all the nutrients you need. Grow some crops!" Arthur wanted him to go more into depth as opposed to just saying vague statements. However, he knew how much Alfred wanted to talk about humans for the day anyway, and surprisingly he didn't mind letting Alfred have his way. He'd have plenty of time to ask Alfred questions about his village another time.

"Ah, this is the school— the high school, that is. It's where older children or young adults, like me, go to learn on the weekdays." They had reached it before Arthur had even realized, but he didn't want to spend any unnecessary time at the place. It was practically the bane of his life after all.

"This is even bigger than the houses!" Alfred yelled, his eyes wide, and elbows and knees bended. "There must be thousands of people who go here!" He was snapping pictures like crazy at different angles and heights.

Only Alfred's first statement was true. It was an overall small town and had a small school to match. And Arthur was completely grateful for that. He was never good at socializing, but it wasn't exactly like he loved people either.

"Maybe one or two thousand? We should go though, it'll be suspicious if we hang around here when its the weekend." Not waiting up for Alfred, he continued walking.

Alfred took a couple seconds before following after Arthur. "What's it like?" He was looking at Arthur with such interest with his bright blue eyes.

Arthur could tell Alfred was hoping for him to say how unbelievably amazing and wonderful school was. But he didn't want to lie to Alfred. "Honestly... It's hell... For me it is anyway," he sighed. He was recalling all those times being humiliated by his peers— mostly by Francis, who had always been so nice to him as a child. Then he thought that his miserable life probably made everyone elses all the more enjoyable and entertaining. "If you ask anyone else though I'm sure they'll tell you how fantastic it is— besides the homework."

Alfred was smiling at him sadly. "Maybe you're just not making the best of it."

"What's there to make the best out of?" Arthur scoffed. "You have to spend most of the day with people who hate you or you hate." An image of Toris and Kiku suddenly came to mind as if reminding him that not everyone is as evil as Francis. "...The rest of the day just isn't enough."

For a moment, the two of them were quiet. Not quite sure what to say to the other. Then a pair of teenagers passed by— one riding a bicycle, the other on a skateboard.

More than prepared, Alfred whipped out the camera and took at least three pictures already. "Amazing! What are those! Ow!" The two passers-by turned to glare at them, and before Alfred could say anything more, Arthur had pinched his ear and began briskly walking away, Alfred in hand. "Artie! That hurts!"

They kept walking like that until he was certain the two boys were back on their merry way. With a sigh of relief, Arthur let go.

"What did you do that for!" he demanded, rubbing his now reddened ear.

"You need to stop acting like we're at the damn zoo. You'll get us in unnecessary trouble."

Alfred was still checking if his ears weren't about to be dismembered, but he nodded his agreement.

"Good. Now let's get going. It's blazing hot out here and I haven't had a bite to eat yet." He eyes Alfred. "Are you feeling well?"

"No, I think my ear is about to come off. Let's go see a doctor—"

"Oh shut up, your ear is completely fine." Although he wasn't checking Alfred's ears at all. "I was referring to the heat."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I think I am feeling a bit weak, " he said in a low voice. "Maybe we should take a break." Alfred's knees were wobbling now and he was falling forward.

"Alfred!" Arthur had caught him halfway through falling and helped him up. "Are you okay? Dammit, I knew I should have just opened the umbrella from the beginning! Get up, I'll take us back home." His voice was laced with complete worry. He struggled with unstrapping the umbrella while holding carefully onto Alfred. "In the mean time, is there anything you n—"

Alfred suddenly started laughing very loudly against his ears. "Haha! I got you! Hahaha, it actually worked— ow! Ow! Artie, cut it out!"

Arthur began beating Alfred not so gently with the umbrella he brought. "You— Are— A— Complete— Twat!" He hit Alfred with all his might at every word.

Alfred spread his hands all over his face so he wouldn't get bruised or jabbed in the eyes. "I was only joking!"

"That wasn't funny! I thought you really were hurt, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you'd react this way!" He stopped holding his hands to his face and dropped them to the side instead even though Arthur was still striking his shoulders. "I'm sorry," Alfred said sincerely. "I really am. I mean, thinking about it, that was too much..." He was looking into Alfred's eyes, so very bright and blue, and Arthur couldn't help but remember the words he read over and over again in one of his books on monsters.

"_...uses its piercing, alluring eyes on humans..._"

Arthur wasn't sure if he was seeing Alfred as _Alfred _right now or as a decietful vampire. He looked away hoping to break whatever enchantment was being placed on him, but he still felt his heart clench at Alfred's apology. Keeping his jaws clenched, Arthur growled "Fine. I accept your apology." He could tell Alfred was smiling right now, but he didn't want to face him while he was still feeling so unsure, so he kept his head either bowed or turned from Alfred as they walked further into town.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

I present you a chapter with an actual decent amount of words. Twice as much as the last ones have been. oTL I've been working on this for the past two days and here I am submitting it at 2:18 in the morning. I had no idea I was taking so long with the editing! /n\ And the more the story progressed, the more I also added events in already completed parts— the whole thing with Alfred and the camera for example.

And since I'm such an idiot with technology and am still so confused with this site's functions, this things probably won't really be up until three. oTL

I really would appreciate reviews on this chapter, seeing as I put more into it and it has, by far, the most examples of my writing style.


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